SCENE 1. _A chamber in the palace. Nauresta on bed asleep.

Phillistus watching._

_Phil._ This poison's swift. Here is her cup. Why palter? A drop will do it. [_Gazes at her_] 'Tis when we sleep the touch Of life is gentlest. Even affliction's kiss Falls like a rose upon the sense-shut lid. Then he most miserable is as the happy, And who so happy that is not then more blest? And since that death is sleep's eternal sum, Why should I pause, nor grant this precious good? O, I could moralize me to a god Who holds the cup of bliss for lip beloved. Nauresta, drink, and in this little drop Sip everlasting ease. [_Pours poison_] 'Tis done. I've reached From mortal shores and opened Hades' gate. Ay, with the gesture of a hand have hooked Eternity.

_Nau._ [_Waking_] Phillistus, you?

_Phil._ 'Tis I, Beloved Nauresta.

_Nau._ Flowers! You have brought them?

_Phil._ Can I forget you love them?

_Nau._ Ah, my friends! They wear no frown to dash down hearts; nor chide When ears are sick for quickening praise; but yield Their royal payment for each passing care; No vagrant dew gives them its moistening heart But they must pay it thrice in perfumed beauty, And bury it as never king shall lie. O human faces, might ye turn to flowers, How many broken hearts would live again!

_Phil._ This is a covert chiding of my faults, So deep repented, love. I'll make thee happy.

_Nau._ My gentle daughter--she that I could call A sister to this rose--her mute complaints Cry like dumb, wounded birds to my sore heart, And I pass by nor help. For what, Phillistus? That you may wear a crown in Syracuse. A crown that is the golden nest of cares, Brooded by every dismal wing may hatch An enemy to peace.

_Phil._ And when didst grow So wise, Nauresta?

_Nau._ Midnight hours teach well. Some sleepless nights would help you too, I think. Wise? Ay, and not too late! I'll be no more Your shield while you make thrust at brave Ocrastes. I'll give him my Theano.

_Phil._ Does he know?

_Nau._ Not yet. I weakly thought to pay old love The grace of first confession.

_Phil._ [_Kissing her hand_] Thanks for that. This sudden turning of a heart long loyal Has left me numb. You know how dear my purpose That she should wed a lord of my own faction. Give me an hour, but one, before you speak. You break the bough that held my care-built nest, And old wings go not blithely after straw.

_Nau._ They've learned to wait, and who would count an hour Before the long day of unbroken love? ... I'm weary now, Phillistus.

_Phil._ Rest thee, sweet. [_She sleeps_] Ah, not too soon I spiced her cup. The way Grows perilous, and I must mount with care To my high seat, lest I should rise to fall; For though the path to crowns be long and slant, There's no way down but by a precipice.

[_Enter Theano bearing an urn which she places on table by cup_]

_The._ You're faithful, sir. [_Bends over Nauresta_] Her brow is calm again.

_Phil._ Now were I ill 'twould quickly make me well To have so fair a face above my bed.

_The._ Hear, my lord, you'd die ere mine should be there!

_Phil._ Surely 'tis no offence to call you fair.

_The._ Beauty lives not upon your commendation, Nor with your silence dies. Spare me, my lord, The cymbal clap of words that add no jot To fairness.

_Phil._ Pardon me, dear girl. I was Your father's friend----

_The._ I strive not to forget it.

_Phil._ And could I have your love----

_The._ All that is good In you I love. Now thou'st the measure, sir, For my affection. Is it small enough?

_Phil._ By heaven, you do not mince it!

_Nau._ [_Waking_] Is that my daughter?

_The._ See, mother, I have brought this drink for you.

[_Pours beverage into cup and offers to Nauresta_]

There's health in 't. Is there not, Phillistus?

_Phil._ Ay, Health and long life. [_Nauresta drinks_]

_Nau._ There's virtue in the cup. Even now I'm better.

_The._ Now?

_Nau._ O, I could rise!

[_Sits up_]

_The._ No, dear. Be patient yet.

_Nau._ Nay, I'll be up! Pray call Methone, love, to dress me.... Ah, Whence comes this lighter heart? How good to have it! I feel like a new-pardoned prisoner Tasting the air. Smile, sweet! Those lily lids Shall droop no more with woe I lay upon them.

[_Enter Methone with robes_]

Now, now, Methone, make me young again. O, not that robe! Tis for a grandame that. My sky-gray mantle with its falling softness Broidered like sunset clouds!

[_Exit Methone_]

_The._ I beg you, sweet----

_Nau._ Wilt smooth my hair? Nay, let it be as 'tis. This way. Ah--now--[_Falls back_] O! Help me! Help; Let go, ye furies!

_The._ Mother!

_Meth._ [_Entering_] Mistress! mistress!

_Nau._ 'Tis poison! poison! I am murdered. O! My daughter--tell her--tell her--ah--Ocrastes----[_Dies_]

_The._ Have mercy, Heaven! O, Phillistus, help her!

[_Faints. Phillistus holds her_]

_Phil._ [_To Methone_] Go call your comrades here.

[_Exit Methone_]

Even now you're mine. Ocrastes! Ha! Her last word was his name. I'll turn this crook of fortune to account, And make a god of accident.

_The._ [_Reviving_] O! O! Misfortune makes my heart her sanctuary. So many woes take shelter there.

_Phil._ One woe You have escaped. Ocrastes' wicked love. O villainous! I dare not think of it! That he would poison one so dear to you----

_The._ Man, man, care for your soul! There is no stain So black as when the gall of calumny Breaks on the snow of virtue! You must rate Your precious life at naught. Ocrastes, sir, Will have your slanderous heart for this!

_Phil._ He may, If 'tis your wish. You heard her cry his name As though she saw her murderer.

_The._ She cried-- Ah, yes--I heard-- What did she mean?

_Phil._ The truth.

_The._ Make me not mad!--He's never entered here.

_Phil._ Why should he when a little gold will buy A hand for any deed?

_The._ The gold--the gold He gave to Brentio! Dear Juno, help! My mind strays from me.

_Phil._ Hast not found him changed? Full of quick passions--contradictions--words Of broken point? Seen shadows on his face As though his mind were brooding darker matter Than could be kept within 't? Bethink thee well, For memory's eye reflective oft repeals The confirmation of the grosser sight, And what so pleased the entertain�d sense Shows in her studied glass a fearful front.

_The._ O, stop thy tongue of death! My promise to him-- So strangely asked--so strangely given! O!----

_Phil._ Thy mother's word----

_The._ O, let me die, die, die!

_Phil._ My girl, all things that be may be endured. Death does not come for this or that affliction, But when 'tis time to knock. Up, sweet Theano! By fortune's rudder, wheel and horn of bounty, You shall rise fair above this foul mischance!

[_Re-enter Methone_]

_Meth._ My lady, lord Ocrastes begs to see you.

_The._ No, no! Not now.

_Phil._ Ay, see him now, Theano. Show him the burden of this bed, nor let The damn�d simulation of his eye Deceive you. Bravely tell him to his face None better knows the gate she came by death.

_The._ You lie!... And yet I can not see him now. Though he is innocent, my wicked promise Burns like accusing fire by this dear form.

_Meth._ Mistress, he comes!

_Phil._ I'll leave you with him. Courage!

[_Phillistus retreats to curtains, left. Enter Ocrastes_]

_The._ You dare come here?

_Oc._ I dare?

_The._ O, see, Ocrastes, What lieth here! The shell of what even now Was she who gave me birth.

_Oc._ Not dead? Ah, love!

_The._ Call me not love! Not here--and now. O, go!

_Oc._ Theano!

_The._ Touch me not! My doubt will make Your hand a thing of fire!

_Oc._ Dear heart, fend off This sea of woe or 'twill sweep reason with it. I could be wild with strange things that I know, And came to tell you of, but for your sake I'm calm.

_The._ Dost know, sir, she was poisoned?

_Oc._ Poisoned? Forgive me, love. Be mad now as thou wilt, Still thy distraction will be stinted measure For grief so dark. Poisoned! O, who----

_The._ Who? Who? That is the question thrusts me like a sword. All loved her--all. She had no enemy.

_Oc._ [_Calmly_] You spoke of doubt. What did you mean, Theano?

_The._ Leave me, Ocrastes! Go!

_Oc._ Phillistus----

_The._ No! He loved her well. That was his touch of Heaven. O, who had cause but----

_Oc._ Do not say it. I go. Not deity descending from the skies To make our peace could now unite us. Ay, Thou 'rt dead to me as that cold body.

_The._ Oh-h! [_Swoons_]

_Oc._ And in that bosom did I come to set A purpose I'd not whisper now to death Lest his dumb lips should tattle. Alone--alone, To grapple in the dark the beast of chance! ... Affection on my track shall ache to death, Friendship in blood lie mute, and love I'll tear From its high heaven to plunge like Ate's coals On Pluto's fire! [_Exit_]

_Phil._ [_Comes forward and revives Theano_] Sweet girl, he's gone.

_The._ [_Rising_] Where is he?

_Phil._ He'll trouble thee no more.

_The._ Heat me the irons! This tongue shall be burnt out that dared accuse him!

_Phil._ She's mad indeed!

_The._ Nay, sir, the cloud of pitch That blinded me is gone. [_Enter maids_] Touch her not yet. [_Maids stand aside_] Methone, hasten Brentio to find The noblest lord in Syracuse.

_Meth._ Who, mistress?

_The._ Who but Ocrastes? Go!

_Phil._ [_Approaching her_] Theano----

_The._ Sir. We have no need of you. I pray you, go. [_Kneels by bed_] He will forgive, then I will die with thee!

_Phil._ Nay, by the gods, should you so die, my maid, Then Sicil' will have groaning cause 'gainst one Who robs her country to make rich her grave. Immortal Beauty must herself go wronged Should you so break her living mould in you, And drain her veins to your fair body trusted For warm and deathless passage.

_The._ [_Springing up_] Are you man Or monster that you foul this hour with thought So gross?

_Phil._ A man--no more, no less--who loves Your mother's daughter. Hate me as you will, I here adopt your grief,--with oath and tear Take it to love as my own child of woe, And swear you faith to death.

_The._ The gods, my lord. Record not oaths of men till they've received The confirmation of an act. I'll wait Their seal on yours.

_Phil._ This night----

_The._ Sir, will you go? Stay not to rouse Ocrastes' rage.

_Phil._ You think He'll come?

_The._ I've sent for him.

_Phil._ You're proudly sure. Will coo your loves by this forbidding bed?

_The._ Ay, for her hovering shade knows now the truth.

[_Enter Heraclides_]

_Her._ Pardon, my lord, that I have sought you out. The hour like an unbridled courser needs Strong hands upon it. Ah,--death here?

_Phil._ There lies Delay's excuse,--and yet 'tis none, for woe Whose feast is but a heart should lift no head Beside the large calamity that makes A morsel of a state. How goes our matter?

_Her._ Aristocles is locked within the castle, In care of Dionysius' guards.

_Phil._ Ah, then He's safe.

_Her._ As safe as we could wish, my lord. And I've yet fresher news. Ocrastes joins us, With wealth and courage like an Atlas back To bear our venture.

_Phil._ He revolts from Dion? Ocrastes?

_Her._ He, my lord.

_Phil._ What works this change?

_Her._ A lady's morning cheek and golden hair. He now is wed to absent Dion's wife.

_Phil._ What say you, sir?

_Her._ The lords were in debate Of who should have her, when out comes Ocrastes, And cries his claim with such o'er-riding proof That Dionysius claps a quick assent And all the court confirm him sullenly. Ocrastes goes to Italy for troops To meet the force which Dion brings from Greece----

_Phil._ But this new marriage! Tell us more. Belike I've missed some sport.

_Her._ Sport? Ha! It was a scene.

_Phil._ But went the lady to him willingly?

_Her._ O, she was modest, played chameleon And chang�d color rhythmically, as though A music of sweet shades sat on her cheek, Then coyly swooned, but her reviving eye, Methinks, looked kindly on his youthful beauty.

_Phil._ [_Watching Theano_] And the young lord? Did not his countenance Play hers a blushing match?

_Her._ Ay, shame and will Mapped out his face between 'em, but short met In love's red constancy.

_The._ O! O!

_Her._ Once more The lady fainted, but 'twas in his arms. Ha, ha!

_The._ And yet I live!

_Phil._ How long, my lord, Since this bold comedy?

_Her._ 'Tis now two hours Behind us.

_Phil._ [_To Theano_] Ah, before he came to you! What shameless shame!

_The._ He loved me! How--O, why?

_Phil._ Nay, ask not why. As well essay to trace The legend that the soft and curling foam Writes on the shaken wave as fix love's path With steady eye or his vagaries mark. Farewell an hour. I'll come again to-night To serve your grief. You'll learn at last to trust me, And in my heart seek comfort.

[_Exeunt Phillistus and Heraclides_]

_The._ Oh, oh, oh! He does not love her. Would he did! I then Might honor him that dared dishonor truth For love's almighty sake,--but 'twas to save His life. Ah, me, his life that sav�d thus Abates all value and becomes as clay.

_Meth._ Sweet mistress!

_The._ O, O me!

_Meth._ Stay this hot flood. Tears bring no lover back. Ay, not though maids Should weep until their cheeks were but a mead For two salt brooks to play.

_The._ O, leave me!

_Meth._ Nay----

_The._ Leave me, I say! Away! [_Exit Methone_] O death! O life!-- Which wears the darker face? Here is my choice.

[_Falls by Nauresta's body_]

[_Curtain_]